A Fairy Tale
by Rykaine
Summary: Three well-known fairy tales are horribly misrepresented. 1+2, 3+4, 6+5
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer: Due to the fact that the gods despise my sorry ass, I am forced to provide **this** (points to the word "disclaimer") so that everyone knows I don't own them. ~hmph~

Warnings: 1x2, 3x4, 5x6, slight Relena-bashing, my lame-ass attempt at humor

A Fairy Tale  ::pretty petals and sparklies whisk across the screen::

Once upon a time…wait…why is it always just once?

Heero: Because that's how often it happens.

Says who? Who's to say the same thing doesn't over and over. I mean, the same types of situations arise all the time.  Who's to say some years after these events take place, they won't take place again.

Heero: Fine. Then maybe because they all happen one at a time.

That's still not fair. Why can't several things happen to several different kingdoms at the same time? Is there some rule that forbids that? _I_ don't know of any.

Heero: Just write the damn thing.

Fine. ::ahem::

A Fairy Tale   ::more sparklies::

Three different things happened to somewhere between three and a whole lot of other kingdoms at the same time a while back. Amazingly no one was harmed—except maybe the bad guys, but who really cares about them?—and complete anarchy never broke out, despite the fact that approximately… nine, no maybe twenty, no how about… screw it—despite the fact that a whole lot of kingdoms were involved. But the author is rambling and the characters are groaning so she'll shut up.

Now, in one kingdom one of the princes was whining and just being a general nuisance because his father was demanding that he get married sometime between now and the following day. Normally the handsome young blond wouldn't take to such a childish display of pleading, begging, and whining, but quite frankly he was at his wit's end. Somewhere along his trek down the hall, he started thinking his father had completely taken leave of his senses. After all, the man already had twenty-nine daughters. Why in the name of all that was holy would he want his only son to bring yet another one into the castle?

So he followed his irate and vastly annoyed father all around the castle, begging without shame that he please not be forced to marry. Even if his father had no problem with yet another female in residence, he did. 

The father, for his part managed to hold his ground against the shameless act until noon (or close to it, what with his busy schedule lord knows he took his lunch when he could). However, the incessant whining was grating on the ears and reminded him of a certain _Queen of the World who isn't really important to this part of the story and shall therefore not be named again. "ENOUGH!" He'd finally lost it. The young prince fell silent, more out of shock than anything, and stared at his father with hopeful blue eyes. The king glared down at his son and considered wringing his neck, but then he reminded himself that his was a pacifist kingdom and it just wouldn't do for appearances—of course neither do certain _Queen of the Worlds_, but I digress._

Any way, the young prince stared hopefully at his father. His father continued to glare. "You've changed your mind, father?" His voice no longer held that whine—unlike another certain… never mind—and he looked smug and victorious. His hopes were quickly dashed however.

"No, I've not changed my mind." The prince's face fell and he immediately looked ready to restart his tirade. The king rushed on to finish his explanation. "I've only changed the terms." The prince stopped and eyed his father curiously. "You do not have to marry a princess." The prince blinked stupidly at him. Not that the prince is stupid mind you, but honestly, how does one react to such an… ultimatum?

"You mean a prince?"

"Sure why not? As you've kindly pointed out, I already have enough daughters." He turned his back on his son to call in his royal aid. "See about setting up a ball in honor of Prince Quatre. Be sure to invite all eligible princes. Let's have it for… tomorrow night let's say." The servant politely bowed (what would you expect, he's a servant) and left the room. The king turned back to his son. "Would you please get off your knees now? It's unseemly—as are certain blue-eyed nitwit _Queen of the Worlds."_

The prince—whom we'll call Quatre from now on—jumped up and gave his father a massive hug. "Thank you!" He then left the room. He had to prepare for tomorrow night….

-- ^ -- ^ *** ^ -- ^ --

Meanwhile, off in another randomly chosen area of this "fantastical world" was yet another kingdom. The townspeople were rather shaky people and jumped at the slightest sounds. Understandable given the fact that the prince—who probably should be considered the king, since after all he is the only one in the castle—other than the servants—but for purposes of the story we're calling him a prince anyway (let's say the coronation hasn't taken place yet)—had an affinity for explosives and the like and more often than not, the sound of something blowing up could be heard coming from somewhere within the castle walls. No one really knew the precise location because they were all pansies and too scared to trek through the forest to find out. That's actually a lie; there was one person not too scared to go up the castle, but that's because she's stupid. 

However, the stupid, obsessive bit…  _Queen of the World_ isn't imperative to the plot at the moment. We'll come back to her later—unfortunately.

Now, for what's going on right now.

The prince—whom we'll now call Heero—was sitting at the top of one of his towers fiddling around with several different wires, a whole lot of C4, and there was probably some nitro hidden around there somewhere. At any rate, the entire floor was covered with stuff all relative to the making of a bomb. Just as he was reaching for a length of red wire, he heard a an explosion come through the small window. Growling, he stood up from his rather intricate looking bomb and looked out the window. The gate was open, which explained the explosion. Obviously some dumbass had tripped the wire and set off the trap. He smirked and stalked down the stairs. Someone was going to die—if he hadn't already—although he doubted it since the explosive on the gate had been quite small. As he walked through the highly decorated and slightly singed hallways, he heard voices coming up from one of the front rooms. He recognized one of the voices as one of his long-lost servant's. Since when were his servants actually being useful? They normally just stayed hidden, and for the life of him he couldn't figure out why. They never came when he called, now suddenly they were walking around and seeing to a complete stranger's needs? Oh he was pissed. His stalk turned into a rather formidable stomp, and he entered the room the voices were coming from. The servant—who looked remarkably like no one we would recognize—jumped back and slid out of the room. Heero blinked but otherwise paid no attention to the now gone servant.

Instead he turned his glare to the man sitting in **his** slightly-singed-and-smelling-of-chemicals-and-smoke-chair. The man in the seat sat back with wide eyes. He deeply regretted his stupidity and wished he hadn't decided it would be a good idea to seek help from the trigger-happy prince. Deciding that discretion was the better part of valor, he slowly stood up and attempted to bypass the obviously madder than hell prince. Unfortunately, Heero was much faster and, before the man, who just happens to be Professor G, could move, he had pulled out a gun and pointed it directly at the man's head. "What are you doing in my castle?" He spoke softly and abruptly.

"Well, you see there's this cave a few ways back, only the entrance is blocked, and I thought maybe you could lend me some of your explosives so that I could blast it out." Of course he was lying, but pride forbid him to admit that he'd been on his way to a fair or whatnot and being the "smart" scientist that he was decided that the rode that looked somewhat craggy and rocky and just generally blown up was by far the _easier _way to go than through the smooth, well worn, well mapped, and showing-no-signs-of-ever-being-blasted one.  Needless to say, he was lost.

Heero just wanted to get rid of the man, and so despite the obvious lie sent him away with a relatively small explosive—meaning that it could very easily blow up the man's house. Something he really hoped would happen but doubted. The man seemed rather happy, probably because the prince had bought his lie, and left the castle, mumbling something about sending his son—who was not really his son, but that he called his son anyway because the boy had no home and…  (Heero tuned him out)—out to repay him the following morning. Heero shrugged. He didn't really care if anyone came; he'd prefer that no one did, that way he didn't have to worry about anyone breaking the spell. He smiled as he once again thought back to that wonderful day when he and his castle were enchanted (ah… nostalgia ::sniff::). Apparently neighboring kingdoms had grown tired of his war mongering and had gone to seek the help of the great fairy or some such nonsense. Anyway the bright flying thing had sent out a rather masculine "fairy" (which is why all royal armies, fairy and human, now have a strict _Don't Ask, Don't Tell_ policy) who seemed to think the best way to solve the problem was to make him a weapons expert with the expertise centering around explosives. Brilliant "fairy" he was. The curse came with the stipulation that it could only be broken when the prince learned to love and was loved in return blah, blah, blah. Heero hadn't paid too much attention to that, and quite frankly he wasn't too concerned about it anyway. All he had to do was not let anyone get too close, and given that any good blast radius was at least five to ten yards it was easy to see that no one would be getting very close to him. Hell, they avoided the castle like the plague….

-- ^ -- ^ *** ^ -- ^ --

Now, way back in the middle of a rather pleasant and seclude forest live the those who are rather important to the third part. The dark haired prince (whom we'll all address as Wufei) sat atop his horse and wondered how the hell he'd gotten talked into this rather asinine quest. He couldn't have cared less about some poor thing trapped inside a tower, sleeping until her true love came to wake her. He snorted in disgust. It was a miserable excuse for sleeping in, and anyone in his right mind should realize that. Muttering a rather obscene oath he spurred his horse on, and they trotted through the forest. Quite frankly he wouldn't be too disappointed if she never woke up. The wench had already been sleeping for something resembling a hundred years anyway. He shuddered at the thought. With that horrid thought in mind, he let go of the reigns and allowed the horse to go wherever the hell it wanted to—after all, who was he to disturb her beauty sleep? So instead of finding his "one true love" and awaking her, he enjoyed a nice quiet romp through the woods.

Unbeknownst to him, he was being followed by way of a ::gasp:: magic mirror, positioned quite poorly in a lopsided, half-assed fashion on the wall of a rather dusty tower at the castle that annoying bit…  _Queen of the World resided in. Fortunately for our dear Wufei, she wasn't the one watching him. Her brother (whom I shall call Zechs because it is my story, and I like the name better than Milliardo) was studiously gazing into it and becoming quite irritated when he realized that the prince was heading in the direction of the tower the sleeping "beauty" slept in. He cringed when he realized that this man could very well be the one to break his spell, and all his hard work would have been in vane. Deciding that he had to stop him—and that his sister, another reason why he goes by Zechs Merquise—was being far too… too… whiny—he flew out the tower window and headed in the direction of the prince._

He landed in a small clearing and waited patiently for the prince to arrive knowing that he would have to in order to reach the tower. Fifteen minutes past. Zechs tapped his foot. Another ten minutes. Well, where was the handsome devil? Zechs hadn't been that far ahead of him, had he? Muttering some rather unpleasant words to himself he lifted himself off the ground and flew through the forest weaving in and out of the trees trying to locate the prince who seemed to have gone AWOL. It crossed his mind that the prince might have sensed his presence and turned to find an alternate route, which was highly likely since the tower was out in the middle of nowhere and the author was making all the decisions. Hours later he was about to give up his search when he heard a sound coming from his right. Turning in that direction he started to follow it; he suddenly came to a stop. Was this really a good idea? He could be flying right into a "Disney" scene and lord only knew how long he'd be forced to sing and dance ::cringe::. He listened again—no that definitely was not singing—it was more of a thrashing sound. As if someone were hacking away at something. Something that could be the thorns and vines imprisoning the "beauty" in her haven. He would not have all his hard work ruined by God, and so without really thinking about what he was doing he cast a random spell. The noise abruptly stopped and when he reached the area the sound had been emanating from he found only a horse and a pile of coarsely and hastily cut branches. Although why anyone would just randomly be cutting branches is beyond even the author's comprehension, but she need Wufei to be doing **something.**

Thinking back to the spell he had cast Zechs tried to recall the exact words he had spoken. After about ten minutes he decided it must have been a transportation spell. Now all he needed to do was figure out where he transported the prince. A light bulb appeared above his head, and he vanished. He reappeared seconds later in the dungeon of his castle, which unfortunately had been decorated by his sis… cousin. What should have been dark, loathsome gray stonewalls were a disgusting pink. The bars were painted to look as though vines of ivy were climbing up, and inside, the chambers were papered with some silly rose design. Instead of blood and sweat and overall suffering, the room smelled of flowers. Zechs scrunched his nose and tried to remember to breathe in through his mouth. He felt sorry for his prisoner, but then again this _was_ a good way to torture a person. Maybe his sis… cousin wasn't so dumb after all. He balked at his own wayward thought; that was quite humorous actually. To think she might actually have a brain. He should his head and made 'tsking' sound.

At the end of the long, pink hall he found his captive glaring and struggling quite unsuccessfully to get out of the shackles binding his wrists. Zechs smirked and stepped into the cell. He'd teach this rather presumptuous, and quite handsome, prince to meddle in his affairs. The door closed with a soft sigh ruining the entire "there's no hope for you now" effect he was going for. _As if the décor hadn't already ruined it Zechs rolled his eyes and advanced upon his helpless captive…._


	2. Chapter Two

A Fairy Tale  ::roses rain down the screen::

Prince Quatre dashed around his room, searching frantically in every closet he had—ok, so it was only two (they're big, all right!).  The ball was 20 hours away, he had to find something to wear.  One might question why he was in such a hurry given the time frame, but the author invites the reader to remember he is a prince.  That means that not only must he find a suitable outfit, he must find the proper accessories to go with it.  That might mean he would have to trek all the way to the lower level of the castle in search of the gold smith, which would eat up a lot of time, because he also still needed to help plan the night's meal and entertainment, plus he had to sign the invitation—and there were dozens of those—whatever he wore had to be cleaned and starched to such a point he wouldn't be able to move, and he needed shoes…

But enough about that.  There is hardly anything too exciting about party preparations—at least in the author's experience—so we'll move on to better things.  Greener pastures one might say.  Not me, but one (whoever he may be).

That's of little concern.  The concern is the solemn figure sitting atop the hill just outside the castle walls, gazing down at the bustling people with a look that could be called longing were he face actually possessed of an expression.  The readers will know this figure as Trowa Barton, not due to any particular characteristics, but because the author decided it was so.  

Now, this Trowa was (not really) staring forlornly at the kingdom not without purpose.  Besides, it was not really the kingdom he was watching; it was the castle.  For as long as he could remember, Trowa had always wanted to be a prince.  It was his life's ambition, what he had told his whole family he would do.  When he grew up, he was gonna be a prince.  

Of course, such a frivolous occupation had gone against every belief of the Barton family, and he had thus been forced to run away.  Yes, Trowa Barton  had run away from the circus to be a prince.  But now, as he saw his one desire within his reach, he realized he had a dilemma:  how did one get to be a prince?

Surely some poor, homeless boy in a clown costume and half a mask could not just waltz into the castle and demand an application.  Surely he'd be turned away… or laughed at and **then** turned away.  And honestly, he didn't know where he could get an application.  The castle seemed the best source, but from whom?  All his readings about court life had left him with the knowledge that there were hundreds of servants, each with varying degrees of importance.  So, who was the most important one to whom one applied?

More over, what if there was an interview?  He'd have to talk!  And that surely wouldn't go well.  There was also the problem of residency.  Wouldn't he have to prove that he could house himself and keep a significant staff supplied to meet his every demands?  He didn't even have a house.

"If you look any not sadder, you're going to kill every last fairy here."  Trowa, not easily startled by anything—including the strange glowing light morphing into a wingéd form behind him—turned around to acknowledge said light… person… thing.  "Perk up, damn it, and tell me what has you so not really down…"

-- ^ -- ^ *** ^ -- ^ --

Professor G entered his tiny little cottage located out in the middle of nowhere, just on the outskirts of the little village some miles away from Heero's castle, and carelessly tossed the bomb on the table in the kitchen.  He then called for his 'son' who wasn't really his son, but this was kinda discussed—though not in its entirety—in the first chapter, and the author hasn't the patience to finish that discussion now.  Just make something up.

Anyway, G called for him, wondering where that boy could have gotten to, even though he already knew that he was more than likely outside seeing to his chores.  That's all he ever did.  That or roam around the hills outside singing or dancing or something… … ….

… No, sorry, wrong story.

No, he was more than likely in the village bothering the shopkeepers with his errant jokes and proclamations that he was indeed the God of Death.  That or he was outside doing something constructive.

Whatever the case, he came almost immediately upon being called.  G was enormously pleased, since usually he had to wait forever for his son—Duo Maxwell, if you really must know—to come out from wherever he was hiding.  He must have missed G in his absence.  (Though if the truth be known, Duo was actually curious as to why G was back so soon, the man was supposed to be gone for the whole weekend!  What?  He didn't trust him not to burn down the house.  Bastard…)  But the author digresses.

The point was, that G was enormously pleased, and as soon as Duo entered the room he started telling the story of his day, intending to send Duo off on his errand as soon as possible so as not to give Prince Heero the wrong impression.  Ok, he started to tell his story, but was quickly cut off by Duo's exclamation, "What the hell is that?!"

"It's a bomb, Duo."  G explained, and started his tale again.

Only to be cut off again.  "What the hell is it doing in my house?!"

G blinked.  Oh yeah, it was Duo's house….  Minor detail to be fixed later….

Anyway, annoyed that Duo kept cutting him off, G explained quickly, "It was given to me a few hours ago.  If you'd listen, I have a job for you."

"Who in their right mind gave you a fricken bomb?!"

"Prince Heero.  Now would you shut up!  I'm trying to tell you a story…"

"Screw the story.  I'm going to have a chat with Mr.  Heero."  Duo grabbed his coat and stomped out the door.  Slamming it behind him; he returned seconds later, glowering at G.  "And don't touch anything 'til I get back."

The author would like to take a moment to point out she lied in the first chapter.  There are in fact two people willing to make the trek to Heero's castle.  She still holds that's only because one is stupid…

-- ^ -- ^ *** ^ -- ^ --

Relena—_Queen of the World to you (look, you knew this time would come eventually.  Suck it up and deal)—sighed heavily and sank into her frilly pink throne.  She was bored.  Her brother had disappeared hours ago.  No doubt he was in the dungeon with some misbegotten cretin.  She rolled her eyes; Zechs and his bondage fetish…._

She had been planning on attending that Winner ball, but word had spread that only princes were being invited now.  Normally she would be running around like a headless chicken trying to find something to wear.  But no.  The stinking Winner Prince just had to be all whiny about the marriage thing.  He just had to have his way.

Well what about her, damn it?  Wasn't she always supposed to have her way?  She was the Queen of the World.  Why **shouldn't she have her way?  It was only fair and befitting to her role.  (Reader will note that now is the choice time to roll eyes.)**

Besides now she was bored.  A bored Queen of the World is never a good thing.  She starts thinking, and a thinking Queen of the World is even worse.  She starts getting ideas.  A Queen of the World with ideas is supremely bad.  She always thinks they're good and ideal.  Really they're just stupid, but **she thinks they're good, so then she attempts to implement them into her life and reign somehow, and then all hell breaks loose and before you know it there's civil war here, nuclear fallout over there, unrest everywhere in between, and overall chaos across the board—not that she truly understands what any of that means (which is why the author can get away with saying it).**

Anyway, she was thinking, and that was altogether bad.  She needed a mission.  Something to take her mind off processing thought….

Then she remembered—the one function she can operate without mass destruction ensuing—there was that poor, dear prince cursed to forever strike fear into the hearts of his villagers.  Some vile, evil fairy had cast a nasty spell on him, and all ability to communicate without hostility and hatred were now lost to him.  (Never mind that he had never done so anyways, but that's besides the point….)

That's what she could do!  She could go break his curse.  After all, wasn't the Queen of the World supposed to bring peace, love, and unity to all?  She didn't actually know—that would require thinking—but it sounded good to her.  So off she bounded, happy to have something to do.  A quest, if you will.  And of course you will, because the author has decreed it so, damn it….

-- ^ -- ^ *** ^ -- ^ --

Zechs slapped the riding crop into his hand with quick, snapping motions, approaching the dark haired prince who had dared defy him.  "Now, explain it to me again."

Wufei gifted the sorcerer with a strange look.  He couldn't keep the confusion out of his voice when he answered, "…  I've been a bad…, bad… boy…?"  His face stated clearly that he was beyond comprehending any of this, and he looked to Zechs for some kind of explanation.

Zechs merely smirked and continued forward.  "We'll have to teach you a lesson now, won't we?"  Wufei gulped and struggled against the cuffs….


End file.
